Punch Drunk Grinning Soul
by LoupGarouAngel
Summary: When the Winchesters are drunk, fun brotherly banters always ensures.


"Oh you son of a-SAM!" Dean dodged a flying fist, his steps swaying uneasily from the alcohol in his blood.

"Bit…busy…here….DEAN!" Sam gasped, trying to force the words through a constricted throat, one being held by a very large, hairy and angry man.

Apparently men like this did not enjoy being called, "gorillas on bikes", they found it offensive or something of that matter and grew quiet violent when addressed with these terms.

Of course, Sam and Dean could not be fully blamed for this. No, another enemy had indeed stepped in and aided them with the sarcasm that had gotten them here.

His name was Captain Morgan…his hook be damned.

"All ya…ya need is a damn tutu and you can go join the circus! Throw ya up on one of 'em horses, ah Hell, poor horse, they'd need a Clydesdale for your fat ass…" Dean slurred as he danced away from the steaming, large man, beady eyes glinting angrily from beneath a bushel of a beard.

A cocky grin stuck on his face though, he was rather enjoying this, although he was worried about Sam…

Sam threw another punch and the meaty man finally stumbled off, pain only fueling the anger he had at Sam.

"It was my brother that called you a fat gorilla, man! Why the hell you gotta drag me into this bull?!" Sam whined, voice much more higher pitched then it needed to be as he rocked uneasily on his feet.

The man only glared and sneered, pulling his fist back for another punch. Sam deciding he had had enough stumbled toward the door, grabbing Dean's collar right before a ham sized fist slammed into the spot he had previously been standing in.

They ran out the door, running past the Impala, the two large men chasing them until they rounded a corner. Sam and Dean were no where to be found, the men scratched their heads, seeing only to garbage cans that were impossible for two grown, drunk men to slip into so quickly.

Then again, they didn't know a Winchester.

After a few moments the left, growling and cursing at the cowards that had so quickly left a good fight. After their footsteps faded away two tin lids clanked loudly to the ground, a untamed haired Sam and ruffled Dean rising from the incredibly small spaces.

"Never…again…Dean." Sam huffed, trying to catch his breath as he struggled to untangle his long limbs from the small quarters.

Even drunk Dean got out easily, pulling himself free by pushing up and swinging his legs out. He brushed himself off, face contorting in disgust as he picked off a banana peel from his hair.

"Eww, gross…" He mumbled, gaze slowly falling on his brother that was still struggling.

Sam found his legs to be stuck, long limbs bunched to tightly in small spaces that held almost no give never mixed with him it seemed.

"Dean, gimme a hand." Sam said, a bit louder then he usually would.

"Why?"

"Ah, cause I asked you to. And I'm kinda stuck…" Sam glared, his struggling momentarily stopping to argue.

"So, more funny to watch you struggle." Dean flashed a cocky grin.

"You ass! I got you the hell outta there, now help me!" Sam whined, face twisting in anger and annoyance.

Dean took a swayed step back and watched the two Sam's, well at least that was how he saw it, pout at him as he struggled to get out.

"You…you look like that green thing that lives in a trash can on Sesame street." Dean chuckled at the uncanny resemblance.

"Shut up Dean." Sam growled, his legs still stuck in a crossed leg position within' the barrel.

"What was his name…Grumpy, Grouchy…no, something with a G…" Dean pondered, glazed stare watching Sam but not _watching_ Sam.

"Grover! It was Grover! Now get me outta here!" Sam yelled, anger making his motions quick and unsteady…sending the trash can on its side.

"Nope. No, wasn't Grover…Something else with a G…" Dean continued to think, not even noticing his brother as he flailed from the trash can on the ground.

"I…hate…you!" Sam squirmed out, gangly limbs free at last.

"Then again maybe it was Grover…" Dean glanced at Sam as he stood, a snarl on his face as he stared back at his drunk brother.

"What'd I dooo?" Dean said, meaning to lean away from Sam, but instead stumbling back quickly and almost falling.

"Don't talk to me." Sam said, pouting, girlish attitude rearing its ugly head more then ever when he was drunk.

"Psh, whatever…" Dean swaggered after Sam, kicking a clumsy foot at his brother.

Sam nearly face planted, long legs tangling with themselves at Dean's actions. Dean laughed out loud at that, much to hard for Sam's liking.

"Kn…knock it off Dean! Just let me g…go back to the fr…friggin' motel in peace…you…you jerk!" He sputtered out the words, tongue not cooperating correctly, for the signals directing it were askew due to much intoxication.

"'Kay Kathleen, man you can be such a little whiny bitch sometimes…" Dean sighed, his shoulder drooping in disappointment as Sam and he walked back to the motel side by side.

They reached the small room, Sam taking a good ten minutes to get the key into the hole and successfully unlocking it.

"Damn Sammy, feel sorry for any woman that goes to bed with you." Dean chuckled, his dirty mind getting the best of him.

Sam only glared, glazed, unfocused eyes managing to still appear very ticked. Now he had enough, this called for extreme measures…

A bible thunked on the back of Dean's head. He stood for a moment, the thought that a bible had just tried to assonate him sounding very odd and peculiar.

"Sam…did you just throw a bible at me?" Dean asked, turning around and picking up the object, eyebrow raised curiously.

"Yeah, yeah I did! You're being a jerk, you deserved it!" Sam yelled, swaying uneasily as he tried to stand his ground.

"Okay…Mandy."

"See, there you go again!"

"It's from the movi…"

"I don't care what it's from, just shut it Dean, before I throw more then a bible at you!" Sam fumed, his drunk anger making Dean want to laugh…only that might bring death by bible.

"Okay, whatever, night Sam." Dean said, to tired now to continue the seeming useless argument.

"Yeah..that's right..you…you…" Sam swayed again, this time tripping as he tried to move, falling dead on the bed…seemingly unconscious.

Dean quirked an eye brow at him, watching for a moment to make sure his brother was breathing. When he saw the steady rise and fall of his chest and knew he was okay, Dean returned to trying to get some rest in his own, spinning world.

Dean was nodding off when a incredibly masterful idea sparked in his mind. With a grin, he got up, and got to work.

xXx

Sam awoke with a headache the next morning, groaning he slowly sat up, the horrid taste in his mouth nearly making him gag. The world still spun a bit and his stomach was uneasy.

He looked up and saw Dean casually watching TV, chomping on a bowl of cereal as he enjoyed what appeared to be…was that iCarly? Dear God, what had the world come to…

Sam shook the thoughts away, that's when he felt the odd object flutter about on his head, reaching up he found a make shift halo. His brow scrunched together and he glared over at a laughing Dean, who held a spectacular cell phone photo in one hand.

"Don't blame me dude, you _were_ the one who threw the bible as a weapon!"


End file.
